


Pleasure & Business

by Theoroark



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: F/M, First Dates, First Kiss, Mild Injury
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-08
Updated: 2019-06-08
Packaged: 2020-04-23 03:20:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,056
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19142518
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Theoroark/pseuds/Theoroark
Summary: “I want to take you to Prima,” Akande says. “Come dressed appropriately.”“Got it,” Ashe says. “So the gold spurs, not the brass.” She grins when he hangs up in response.-Akande and Ashe have their first date. Things don't exactly go as planned.





	Pleasure & Business

“I want to take you to Prima,” Akande says. “Come dressed appropriately.”

 

“Got it,” Ashe says. “So the gold spurs, not the brass.” She grins when he hangs up in response. She’s always liked it when banter has a sharp edge to it, and their meetings– long, multilocational affairs, that begin talking strategy in Akande’s office and end drinking and talking about the future on his balcony– have been full of that. His ability to give and take in equal measure is a turn on. And much as she hates to admit it, his sense of style is one too. So she’s okay playing by his rules for their first official date. 

 

Doesn’t mean she can’t wear her bright pink coat with the tails, or her ostrich feather hat. And it certainly doesn’t mean she can’t pull up to the curb where he’s waiting on an ostentatious and unnecessarily loud motorcycle. Akande’s wearing a far more understated dark red tuxedo and he rolls his eyes as she dismounts, but it’s okay. He might hate to admit it, but he likes this too. 

 

“Your valet’s going to have trouble,” he murmurs to her as he takes her arm. She shrugs. 

 

“‘sall right. That thing looks ridiculous, all shiny and new. Some scuff marks would do it well.” Akande laughs quietly, and leads her inside. 

 

The maitre’d recognizes Akande the second he steps through the door. She says nothing as she leads to a table for two, on the far side of the dining room. The floor is glass, giving Ashe a scenic view of the dirt and rocks beneath the building’s foundation. A small stream weaves its way through the dining room. Ashe assumes that’s meant to be impressive, but it mainly reminds her of the jungle themed restaurant B.O.B. took her to on her seventh birthday. The impression isn’t helped by the polished stone table. 

 

“The chef wanted to make the space feel like her mother’s garden,” Akande tells her. 

 

“Her mother grow any actual plants in that garden?” Ashe asks, because near as she can tell, the potted olive tree at the front of the house is the only green thing in the building. Akande snorts. 

 

“That decorating choice would be too obvious, I suppose.”

 

Then the waiter delivers their menus and then, the conversation stalls. Ashe doesn’t want to acknowledge it at first. But this is one of those fancy places, the menu is about six lines long, she can’t blame it on some distraction. She and Akande are having an awkward silence. 

 

This is ridiculous. Neither of them are shy people. They’ve both won their power in no small part due to their strengths with people, their abilities to connect and inspire and intimidate. And they’ve never had an awkward silence in their work meetings before. 

 

But maybe that’s the thing. Those were work meetings. They had a point to them, they had something to build off of and lean on. This is a date. This isn’t about the worth of their respective organizations anymore. This is just them. And so Ashe feels the terrain she’s so carefully mapped around her and Akande falling away. 

 

An Omnic waiter comes up and takes their drink orders. When he floats away, Akande sets his menu down and steeples his fingers. 

 

“You’re quiet,” he states. Ashe sighs. 

 

“I need that drink.”

 

“Quite,” he says, and at least he’s smiling now. That helps her relax, a little. “I know I chose this place, but if you had wanted to go somewhere else…”

 

“It’s not that,” Ashe snaps. “I’m used to this shit.” Akande nods but doesn’t say anything else, just waits. Ashe sighs again. “I was never too good at dating-type dating,” she admits. “Never really a ton of dinner and a movie types in Deadlock. Guess I’m out of practice.” Akande tips his head and makes a sympathetic noise. She narrows her eyes. “You can’t say the same, I imagine.”

 

“No,” Akande says. Ashe lets out a little laugh and he gives her an unapologetic smile. “I’m usually quite good at this.”

 

“I’m throwin’ you off your game, is what you’re saying?”

 

“You’re certainly doing something.”

 

She leans across the table and flicks his ear. He makes a noise that’s somewhere between a laugh and a yelp and is entirely too loud. The diners around them send them poisonous sideways looks. They try to look chagrined. 

 

“You’re right,” Akande says, almost whispering. “I’m intimidated by just how thoroughly you outclass me.” This time, he leans back before Ashe can land her blow. But when he does, she catches a glimpse of the entrance foyer over his shoulder. Six people have entered, all with tactical lenses and rubber soled shoes. 

 

Akande catches on immediately, and his expression instantly shifts to that of a man on a perfectly well-mannered date. It’d be a dead giveaway if that crowd knew a thing about them, but Ashe doesn’t have time to waste calling him on it. “Our kind, or…?” he asks, in a conversational tone. 

 

Ashe shakes her head. “Cops. I’d put money on Interpol.” She feels the inside of her jacket, slowly undoing the straps holding her pistol in place. She’d really rather have her rifle on hand. But this was a date, and she had wanted to be a lady. 

 

She almost wants to laugh. She had wanted this date to be like when they did business together too, hadn’t she? Well, sometimes she got what wanted. 

 

The people in the foyer are moving into position. Ashe stands up, and Akande does too. He rubs his shoulder, almost like he’s popping it back into place. The prosthesis begins to shift, shuffling its outer layer in and its innards out. Within seconds, the golden Doomfist gauntlet is on his arm, and he’s slamming it into the glass floor while pushing Ashe behind him with his other hand. 

 

The Interpol had started running towards them in earnest, and so most are caught in the cone that crackles forth from Akande’s gauntlet. They fall about a story down, alongside a half dozen surprised tables, into the dirt and stone. Ashe shoots the two agents that escaped the fall. Then she grabs Akande’s hand and pulls him towards a nondescript door. That’s got to be the kitchen. 

 

“They’ll have people there,” he says as they run. 

 

“Not as many, I’m willin’ to bet. We can take them.” She swears she hears him laugh at that. She pushes through the door, barreling past their waiter, who has their drinks on a tray. The glasses fall to the floor and shatter. Pity. 

 

The kitchen is a spacious thing, high ceilings and rows of stainless steel counters, but it’s also filled with people. They push past belligerent cooks. Ashe stares one down as he reaches for his knife, and he drops it. They’re a row away from the service door when four Interpol agents burst through. Akande grabs her arm and they duck behind the counter. 

 

“Remove the gauntlet,” one of the agents yells. All the chefs are quiet now. 

 

Ashe glances over at Akande. He’s not saying anything, but he doesn’t need to. The angle’s all wrong here. She’s seen holovids of him fighting, he can’t seismic slam hard enough to knock them down with the metal counter in the way, and he can’t line up a punch without exposing himself for too long. She hears the shuffling of feet. They’re going to be surrounded soon. 

 

“Throw me,” she hisses. Akande stares at her and again, he doesn’t have to say a word. “Trust me. I can hit them all, if I can see ‘em. Get me up high.”

 

Akande bites his lip. She doesn’t know why he’s hesitating, but the window of opportunity is closing fast, so she pushes. “B.O.B. does it all the time. You worse at this than B.O.B.?”

 

Akande takes her in his gauntleted hand and throws her in the air. She has her pistol at the ready as she reaches her peak, lining the shot up with one hand and holding her hat on with the other. Most of the cops haven’t quite caught on, they’re still staring at the counter. But one is gawping up at her. She winks. Then she fires four shots in a row. The agents all fall down, and so does she. As she’s still in the air, she twists to give Akande a triumphant grin. 

 

Then quite suddenly, she’s no longer in the air and her head hurts like hell. Akande sighs and picks her up again, but he doesn’t chuck her this time.

 

Just as well. There’s no one left to shoot. 

 

-

 

When they’re back at a hotel, Akande takes his silk pocket square out of his front pocket, wraps it around some ice from the bar, and gives it to her. She smiles sheepishly as she holds it up to her forehead. 

 

“Don’t think I’m hurt,” she says. “Mild concussion, at the worst.”

 

Akande raises an eyebrow. “Promise me you’ll take a cab home, at least.”

 

“You brought me back here just to kick me out?”

 

She expects him to come back with some rejoinder about the raw sex appeal of the walnut sized lump on her forehead but instead, Akande legitimately caught off guard. He won’t meet her eyes. It’s cute. 

 

“Talon personnel guard this building, so it was the closest safe place I could get you too–“

 

“I know,” Ashe says, taking pity on him. She shifts the ice bag to her other hand. It’s already starting to leak a bit. She clears her throat. “Sorry for all the trouble.”

 

“Don’t be,” Akande says. “You saved us both.” He pauses. “Thank you. I don’t think I’ve said that yet.”

 

Ashe nods silently, and Akande starts fiddling at the bar. He’s making himself a whiskey neat. Ashe doesn’t think he’ll give her one if she asks, she can’t imagine alcohol and brain trauma mix nicely. So she doesn’t bother. But there’s one thread that she can’t help but pull on, even though she damn well knows better. 

 

“Well. At least you can’t go around thinking I’m a bad shot anymore.”

 

Akande sets down his drink. His brow is drawn. “I knew you were a good shot,” he says. “I did my research on who I was doing business with. Why did you think I hadn’t?”

 

“But you hesitated, throwin’ me up there.”

 

Akande looks down at the marble countertop. “I didn’t hesitate because I didn’t think you could do it,” he says after a while. 

 

It takes Ashe a minute. She’s not used to this. But when she gets there, it makes this whole disaster of a night worth it. 

 

“Dawww.”

 

Akande glares at her. “I can still turn you in. You’re concussed. You won’t even know it’s happening.”

 

“Don’t think I’m not going to remember this in the morning.” She drops the damp sack of ice on the floor and winds her arms around his neck. He rolls his eyes, but he’s very clearly trying not to smile. “Well, good to know that if Talon ever tries to fuck us over, I got some blackmail in my back pocket. I could tell the whole world Akande Ogundimu’s a big damn softie.”

 

“Not even Sombra would believe you,” he says. But he’s not even trying any more. He brushes the hair from her face, fingers grazing the bump on her forehead. “Stay here tonight.”

 

Now she’s the one thrown, and before she can figure out how she feels, Akande laughs. 

“I’m not staying with you,” he says. Ashe doesn’t know what shows on her face at that, but whatever it is, it makes him laugh again. “You shouldn’t be walking around like this. Stay here tonight, I have other places in the city. And call me if you don’t feel well.”

 

Ashe feels like arguing, but she feels like sleeping a lot more right now, so she gives it up. But as she turns to the bed, Akande grabs her wrist. When she faces him, he kisses her. 

 

“Until the next time,” he says, and then he leaves. And as Ashe lies in bed that night, with an aching head and a racing mind, she realizes she’s really looking forward to their next date. 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by [robocryptid's](https://archiveofourown.org/users/robocryptid/pseuds/robocryptid) Doom & Calamity [date hc!](https://twitter.com/robocryptid/status/1132477951537307649)
> 
> I'm [@tacticalgrandma](https://twitter.com/tacticalgrandma) on twitter if you want to talk to me there!
> 
> Thank you so much for reading, and any comments/kudos would mean the world <3


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